The Stranger
by saidinsoho
Summary: Roxas befriends a homeless Axel. There is no smut : but there is a lot of goodness in this story, hopefully it makes your heart swell. Reviews are welcome!


Roxas had never seen a homeless person before. He had an idea of what they were like; the typical smelly, old person with a grudge against society. His father, when he was alive, didn't like homeless people. He could recall a conversation they had over dinner one night during which the old man mentioned something about them being "one nuisance after another. How is it that I am able to work and maintain a steady income to support my family, and they just expect people to put change in their empty coffee cups? I tell you those cups are just like their skulls, empty."

_There's no reason to be so ornery towards them,_ Roxas had thought to himself after having heard his father's statement. He was a thoughtful teen, and never liked hearing anyone bad-mouth any other person for whatever reason it was. As a younger boy he had been picked on a lot, teased for his blonde hair that never seemed to lie flat, and for his large blue eyes that were almost too big for his head. He'd grown into those eyes, however, at the age of seventeen. They were still as blue as they'd always been, though; blue enough to make the seas and skies envious.

He sat up in bed and glanced at his clock. It was ten thirty-two in the morning on a Sunday, and he had nothing to do. He had just woken up from a restless sleep when he'd recalled what his father had said about homeless people. "That's no reason not to like anyone, I don't think," he stated out loud, not knowing that he'd done so. Long legs spun around to hang off the edge of a full-sized bed. The sheets on the bed were messy, strewn every which-way while Roxas slept uneasily, but he never bothered to make his bed. _You really should make a habit of making your mattress,_ his mother had told him one day. But all Roxas did was laugh at his mother's wording of "making your mattress" and respond with a polite, _Well, what's the point if I'm just going to get back into it the same night?_

Swiftly, Roxas stood up and padded on bare feet to his bathroom. A dusty mirror hung loosely on rusted hinges over a sink that had seen better years. You could tell it had because, in places where the marble had been white before, there were now small streaks of light yellows and brown where the water made the same path down the sink whenever the faucet was turned on. He struggled to turn the cold water handle on and splashed the liquid over his sleepy, blue eyes. He winced when some of the water trickled down his neck and into the faded gray v-neck t-shirt that he'd slept in. After wiping his face clean, he went on downstairs to the kitchen.

xxx

Maybe he wasn't the smartest in his junior class at school, but he was smart enough to figure out that his mother didn't have work today. So why was the house entirely empty? If she went anywhere at all she was always sure to leave Roxas a note or to wake him up before she left or something. He almost began to panic but then remembered what she said last night; grandma's house. She'd gone to her mother's house to help her rearrange a couple of the rooms in her home. When you get old, you tend to become easily bored by your surroundings, especially if you're too feeble to go out and about during the day. Roxas's grandmother was always figuring out new ways to liven up her home, she even has a bathroom that's jungle-themed, complete with lime green wallpaper with leaves delicately painted on by none other than herself.

"I guess I could make myself breakfast," he thought aloud again. He made an odd habit of talking to himself out loud; it made thinking and organizing his thoughts easier. However, he was halfway through rummaging through the pantry when he decided that maybe a walk down to the coffee shop would be a better decision.

He sprinted up the stairs and back into his room, only to find that half of his clothes were all over the floor anyway, and that it wouldn't make a difference, really, what he put on—he was only going to the coffee shop then straight back to his house. The outing would only take all but twenty, maybe thirty minutes.

A white tee lay crumpled on the floor by the foot of his bed. With a quick sniff, Roxas went ahead and threw it on. Next was a raggedy pair of jeans lying on his window sill. How they had gotten there, I don't even think _he_ could tell us. One moccasin was under his bed, and the other lay underneath his computer desk. _Maybe I should start cleaning,_ he thought as he grabbed both shoes and, without bothering to put on socks, put them daintily over his pale feet. He left the house in one big rush, but not before grabbing his wallet and house keys.

xxx

"Good morning, sir, how can I help you!" a light brown-haired girl chirped from behind her counter. She flashed a bright smile as she waited for Roxas to make his choice.

"It's too early on a Sunday to be so happy," Roxas said, flashing his own version of a smile that came out brasher than he had intended.

"Anything to make the work day go by faster, am I right?" she replied.

"Totally. But um…" he eyed the brightly lit menu hanging above this girl's head. "I'd actually like a medium caramel coffee—cream and sugar, please—and a pistachio muffin. Thank you," he broke off to look at the girl's name tag, "Bridget." He smiled.

"Sure thing, hun," she said, and was off in a flash to fetch the boy his order. Roxas couldn't help but to notice the sudden change in the girl's facial color as she spun on her heel to the coffee machine.

"Don't hurt yourself, I'm not going anywhere," he said as he noticed Bridget floundering to get together his order in what seemed to be the fastest way that she could.

"Oh," Bridget laughed. "I know, I—I'm just dedicated to good service is all," she sputtered. Her face grew a slightly deeper shade of pink, and she smiled shyly at Roxas. "But here you are, sir—"

"Roxas…"

"Roxas…Your muffin and coffee. Enjoy, and have a nice day," she nearly stumbled as she walked to the counter to hand the boy his food.

"Thanks, you too!" He blinked those wonderfully blue eyes in Bridget's direction flirtatiously before leaving the small shop.

"Bridg', what was that all about?" another girl had entered the room from behind a door close to the counter that lead to a back room.

"I don't know, but Lord was 'that' beautiful."

xxx

"My God, she was hilarious," Roxas laughed to himself. He went to sip on his coffee but burnt his tongue, nearly dropping the cup in the process. After cursing softly under his breath, he noticed something in the corner of his eye. Something red, and bright. He turned to find a young person, couldn't be more than five or six years older than Roxas himself, clad in the tackiest clothes that Roxas had ever seen. He sat motionless between a small heap of trash bags and a torn cardboard box. Two green eyes peered mercilessly at Roxas and the food that he held in his hands. For a moment it didn't seem like Roxas was going to move; he, too, stood completely still as he and this red-haired, green-eyed stranger locked eyes.

"…Hi," Roxas managed to say. He made a move to begin walking back to his home and, startled, the young person tried to stand. He wasn't six inches off the ground before he tumbled awkwardly back into the heap of trash bags that he'd been sitting between. "Are—are you all right?" Roxas stuttered. The stranger did not respond, only continued to stare at the food in Roxas's hand. "Did…you want some? You can have my muffin if you'd like."

Gingerly, the stranger stood. Roxas was able to see that he was extraordinarily tall, and just as thin. His fading blue shirt was torn at the bottom, and had holes strewn about the mid-section. His arms were long and seemed to go on for miles, as did his legs. A dirty knee shown from behind a hole in his disheveled black jeans. Quite frankly, the boy looked to be in poor shape.

An arm was outstretched towards Roxas, and Roxas knew what to do. He placed the muffin carefully into the stranger's palm, and watched as the stranger dove savagely into it, almost eating the paper that the pastry was wrapped in.

"Whoa now, that's gonna suck comin' out if you eat that paper," Roxas joked. The red-haired stranger didn't find it funny. "Well, I've got to get going. I hope you enjoyed that, it was my breakfast. No worries, I guess," and he was off.

"Thank you," said a low but appreciative voice.

Roxas turned around. "So you do speak? No problem, glad I could be of some service."

"Why didn't you walk away?" the stranger asked. Traces of the muffin decorated his thin lips. It didn't seem to bother him as he spoke to Roxas.

"What do you mean?" the boy inquired.

"Why didn't you walk away, like everybody else does." If it was at all possible, he had become even more serious than when Roxas had first seen him.

"Walk away from who? You? Why would I? You're no one to walk away from. I mean, it's not like I felt threatened…" he paused. "…Although I have to say that it was weird how you just kept staring at my muffin like that." He laughed.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, oh no not at all! If you wanted it then you wanted it, no shame. Was it even any good? I've never tried the pistachio before."

"It was great, I cant remember the last time I ate anything so good." The stranger stared at the concrete sidewalk as if he were trying to make it split in half with his thoughts.

"Are…you all right? Why the long face? And when was the last time you ate anything at all?"

The redhead continued to stare at the ground, but still spoke in that low voice.

"Maybe a few days ago, probably a week."

"Are you—"

"Yeah, homeless."

"Oh… Listen, I'm real sorry. I—"

"Don't be," his face seemed to brighten. "I get to do what I want, I don't answer to anyone, and if I act creepy enough I can get people like you to give me food and sometimes money." He laughed to himself at the screwed up look that crept across Roxas's face. "I was joking about the last part, but I have to say thanks again for that."

"No problem," the light-haired boy replied, his eyes narrowing as he shifted his cup of coffee from one hand to the other. "I guess I should be going, I've got a whole day of nothing to catch up on." He spun around and started walking up the sidewalk. Suddenly, he turned around. "But you take care of yourself, okay?"

"Promise," said the lanky boy. "My name is Axel, by the way."

_Why would I care what your name is?!_ Roxas thought to himself. But he humored the young person and responded by telling him his own name.

"That's odd enough, never met a Roxas before. Will I be seeing you again? If not then that's okay, just as long as I get another muffin if I ever do see you again."

"I don't know, maybe." A polite smile made its way over the boy's lips and he turned around to continue his walk home, but not before burning his tongue, yet again, on his medium caramel coffee with cream and sugar. Axel chuckled lightly to himself and made his own way down the street. Only as the day unfolded would he know where he would eventually end up.

xxx

"Yeah, I'll see you all later!" A bright and cheery teen sang to his group of friends as he made his way down the front steps of his school. Friday had come and he was ready to sleep for the next two days. It's amazing how, even has a teenager, you never really manage to get the full eight hours of sleep that doctors recommend.

The week had gone by rather quickly, what with summer only two "short" months away, Roxas and the other unsuspecting students in his grade were thrown a bunch of essays to write and tests to study for. He couldn't be happier that the weekend had finally come. But he couldn't get Axel out of his thoughts.

Every so often throughout the week, Roxas would catch himself thinking of this "Axel." Who was he? How had he even become homeless? How does he survive? What were those weird markings underneath his eyes? Had he been kicked out of his home? What had he done? All of these questions and more plagued Roxas and his overworked brain for the days after he had first encountered the fragile looking person.

Not a moment after these thoughts passed through his mind did the blonde manage to catch a glimpse of red from across the street. There he was, Axel, sitting stonily on the curb directly across the street from Roxas. He had only been walking for a few minutes and was hardly away from his school before he came across the redhead.

"Roxas!" Axel waved.

_Aw, jeez,_ Roxas thought. Nonetheless, he gave an encouraging smile to Axel and crossed the street to where he was sitting. "What's up?" He noticed that Axel was wearing the same tattered shirt and worn out jeans that he wore on Sunday.

Axel sat quietly for a moment. He hadn't really planned out what he was going to say to Roxas; he didn't think he was going to get that far.

"Well?" Roxas pressed. He dropped his book bag on the sidewalk and sat heavily next to Axel, waiting for his response.

"I don't know, I wasn't expecting you to cross the street, much less remember who the hell I was," he gave a deep laugh that seemed to vibrate the very sidewalk that the two boys sat on. "I guess…well, is there anything you want to know? About me, I mean." He raised an eyebrow and hoped that he hadn't embarrassed himself too much in front of the other boy.

"Well, I suppose." Roxas began. "Where ya from?" He nudged Axel softly on the arm. Axel shifted uncomfortably at the contact and placed his hand where he had been touched. He thought for a short while before answering the teen's question.

"I'm from around here, I mean I'm guessing that homeless people don't really tend to travel outside of their realm of familiarity. I grew up in this big green house on Johnston Street, it's like a thirty minute walk from here."

"Oh yeah? Well I know that place. Hm what else is there…Hey how old are you anyway? And when and how did you exactly become uh…" Roxas was uncomfortable saying the word.

"Homeless? Ah well, for one, I'm twenty-two. And for two, well, it's an icky story."

Roxas smiled at the usage of the word "icky," but managed to respond to the taller boy's statement. "Well, it's three-thirty on a Friday afternoon; I've got the time to listen."

"But are you really all that interested?" he raised another eyebrow.

"Oh, terribly," Roxas replied.

"All right. As a kid, I was troublesome. I was always getting into messes, ruining things and tearing shit apart. I couldn't stand the constraints of school and living at home with my parents; my father wasn't exactly the most congenial person to be around. All my life I just felt like…like he resented me. Like he wished I hadn't even been born."

"Why would you think that!" the excitable teen interjected, remembering his own father and how he'd only gotten to know him for ten of the seventeen years that Roxas had been alive. He would have given anything to stop his father from getting on that plane that so fatefully crashed one winter night. He was a traveling businessman, and as the name entails, he was required to take various trips to different states and cities. There was nothing that anyone could do, however. The plane went down and plenty of people were injured, but his father was one of only a handful that had the misfortune to lose their lives. Roxas's mother couldn't stop crying for years. At night, Roxas swears that he can still hear his mother choking back tears as she slept in an empty bed.

"If you knew my father," Axel began, "then you would understand. It would start with a side remark or some sort of insult thrown at me, and then my poor mother would always be left to break up the verbal fights that he and I would have. I always felt so sorry for her, that the love of her life and her only son just couldn't get along.

"What happened next then?" Roxas peered into the eyes of his acquaintance in sheer interest, waiting for this story to find its ending. Axel didn't need to be told twice to continue his tale.

"Well, I guess one day it just got that much worse. I was cursing at my father, he was throwing things at me, and I told him that if he ever hit me that I'd leave and never come back. Lo and behold, as soon as I finished what I was saying, this hand came out of nowhere and hit me so hard it seemed to rattle my brain. I fell flat on my back, my poor mother thought I was dead. I didn't move for what seemed like an eternity. _Then get out!_ was the last thing I heard from him, so I just left. I slept in the park that night, and returned later the next day to pack a few things. I left a note for my mom, but nothing for my father. I didn't want to see him ever again… Don't look so sad," Axel noticed a hint of sorrow cross Roxas's face, and smiled in hopes of getting that look to fade away. "I'm still alive, right? Barely but…I'm still here."

Roxas lowered his head. "I don't even know what to say after all of that. I mean, how long ago was that?"

"This Saturday it will have been roughly a year and a half."

"Where have you been staying? Who takes care of you?"

"For the first couple of months I had been staying with a friend of mine, Saï'x . We'd been friends since the beginning but, I guess somewhere along the way all of that changes."

"What do you mean?" There were still sparks of sadness flashing through Roxas's eyes. He had somehow managed to scoot closer to Axel while he was telling his story, as if he wasn't able to hear what he was saying because he spoke so lowly. But, Roxas could hear just fine from where he had been sitting…

"He got sick of me. Said I was dead weight, he wanted to move on but I was like an anchor attached to his foot, apparently. He kicked me out. I've managed to scrounge this far, and for a while I had been doing odd jobs around the city just to have a bite to eat every now and again. But now, I just kind of drift." He stopped speaking and lowered his gaze so as to meet the ant that had been slowly but surely making its way across the pavement underneath Axel's bent legs. He placed a large palm flat on the ground and waited patiently for the ant to finally make its way onto one of his very long fingers.

"Christ, that's all horrible. I'm sorry I bitched about giving you my muffin," the blonde said, then scratched nervously at the back of his head. He watched curiously as Axel played with the ant, looking ever so intently at it as it crawled over his fingers. He made sure to rotate fingers so as to keep the ant walking, but never letting it actually get anywhere. "What are you doing, man?"

"Oh," Axel outstretched his hand so as to give his new friend to Roxas. "Did you want to hold him? He won't bite. I spend a lot of time outside, so I've gotten used to the weather and bugs and such. Go on, put your hand out, palm up."

Roxas did as he was told. Axel lightly placed his fingertips on Roxas's, waiting for the ant to make its way to the other boy. So there they sat, Axel and Roxas, hands touching ever so slightly. Roxas waited with much anticipation for the ant to crawl onto his palm, and what was only ten or twenty seconds felt like a lifetime, his hand connecting with Axel's. Then, the unexplainable happened.

Axel slid his hand slowly over Roxas's palm, completely disregarding the ant that was so desperately trying to find solid ground. Almost intuitively, both of the young boys placed their palms facing away from themselves, so that one palm was touching the other. Their hands would have fit perfectly together if Axel's fingers hadn't been so long. Roxas was lanky, but everything on Axel seemed to be elongated. Before either of them knew what they were doing, their fingers interlocked. The two sat for a few seconds like this before something else unexplainable happened. Axel pulled his new friend closer and held him tightly in an embrace. Whether it was awkward or not, neither of them really knew for sure.

"W- what's this for?" Roxas asked. He wouldn't admit it to Axel, but he didn't mind being held so closely. Axel clung to Roxas as if his life depended on it, and Roxas never felt more important as he did in this moment.

"I haven't talked to another human being like this in almost a year. Thank you, so much."

"For what?"

"Just for listening." The poor boy began to shake slightly, and short, harsh breaths could be heard coming from his throat. He tried to muffle the sound of these breaths in Roxas's shoulder, but the younger one could still hear them.

"Are you crying, Axel?" he queried.

The sorrowful redhead replied, "Yeah, try not to judge." Finally the two pulled away. Roxas's shoulder was a little damp, but for some reason he didn't mind.

"Of course not, I'd never judge. You've got to be one of the most interesting, strong-willed people I have ever met. And I've only met you twice…" he looked down to realize that Axel's hand had once again found its way over to Roxas's. The bigger hand lay gently atop the smaller one. "Are you, y'know… _gay_?" He eyed their hands together.

"No," said Axel smoothly. "I'm simply human. I like to touch."

Roxas looked up to be met by two green eyes that shone like emeralds embedded into a smooth ceramic sink. Axel's skin reminded him of porcelain. Despite being homeless he sure was spotless, save those two peculiar marks that bore a striking resemblance to tears; marks that were all too appropriate for what was happening to Axel now. Looking at them reminded Roxas that he'd wanted to know what they were.

"What exactly are those marks underneath your eyes?" he gulped nervously.

"Oh," Axel removed the hand that was on Roxas's to bring it to stroke the etching underneath his left eye. Roxas hadn't realized it, but he began to miss the small contact that the two had been sharing. "A less-than-loving nick name my father had given me was 'cry baby.' At around nine years old, I began crying. Incessantly, day in and day out, sunup to sundown; it didn't matter what time of day it was, I had tears in my eyes. No one really understood why, and neither did I until I was maybe twelve. It was because of the way my father treated me. It made me sad and it literally pained me to know that he hated me so much, and I could never figure out why. So one day, I dunno, I had to be like nineteen, I got Saï'x to tattoo these spots under my eyes. 'Cry baby,'" he laughed sorrowfully. "This is what they mean."

"Do you want to come over?" Roxas blurted before he could understand what he was saying. He shifted uncomfortably in his spot on the curb and stared straight up into the sky to forget where he was for a moment. His head began to spin.

Axel chuckled, "What?" A broad smile spread across his face.

"Do you want to come over? You know, for more than just a muffin. I'm sure I could throw something together, for the both of us. And you could shower and do whatever you need to do, and—"

"Whoa, cowboy. Why the sudden invitation?" He couldn't understand why anyone would want a homeless person over at their place.

"Because you deserve it." With that said, the two stood up and Roxas lead the way to his home.

xxx

"Nice place you've got!" Axel exclaimed as they climbed the stairs of his front porch. Roxas opened the door and let his new friend enter first.

"Mom? Mom!" Roxas shouted excitedly, but then he spotted a piece of paper hanging from his refrigerator. He picked it up and eyed it curiously. Axel, in the meantime, stood awkwardly and seemed like he was waiting to be told what to do. "Oh! It's okay! Come in, sit wherever you want. Switch on the television, I don't care. Judging from this note is seems like my mother is spending the night at my grandma's, she's helping with stuff around her house. Shame, I kind of wanted her to meet you!"

"And why is that?"

"Well, you're someone worth meeting, is why. Do you want to eat? Or maybe you'd like to shower first?" He glanced at the clock; five on the dot.

"I think I'll shower, it's been a day or two," he laughed, embarrassed. "Where's your bathroom?"

"As soon as you hit the top step, turn right. The door should be wide open, it's right there. Towels are in the closet next to the doorway, help yourself. I guess I'll get the food started. Hamburgers sound all right to you?" An excited grin slid across his mouth.

"Do you even have to ask? The last thing I ate was that damn muffin you gave me on Sunday, pretty much. Anything and everything sounds good. Do what you want." He gave a mock-salute and headed up the stairs. Roxas smiled foolishly to himself and pulled out the frozen beef patties from the freezer and began preheating the skillet.

xxx

Axel could already smell the food cooking as he delicately washed himself in a shower that seemed too small considering the size of the bathroom that it was in. He quietly admired the rubber duck sitting in the corner of the bathtub. With a small squeak he picked it up and began chuckling to himself. It had been a long while since he'd taken an actual shower in the actual bathroom of an actual house. Was he dreaming? He couldn't have been, the water that so gently cleansed not only his body but his mind and soul felt as real as the tears that he'd been crying a while before.

After he'd finished, Axel stepped out of the tub and relished in exactly how good he felt. The reflection in the loosely-hanging mirror displayed a smiling redhead, eyes green and glowing and ever so hopeful. "I guess there is good in at least one person in this world," he said to himself, and began to dry himself off. He wrapped the towel around his waist not long before figuring out that he had no clothes to put on. He made his way out of the bathroom and down the stairs—dressed in nothing but a towel, his hair still dripping a bit—to the kitchen to ask Roxas if he could borrow a few items of clothing.

Roxas was setting the table when Axel came strolling down the stairs clad in his fluffy, white towel.

"Can I borrow some clothes?" he asked.

"Sure!" He tried not to stare at his chest and stomach as he walked passed him and motioned for him to follow him up the stairs and to his bedroom. "Try these, I'm tall but not as tall as you of course. Exactly how tall are you, anyway?"

"I dunno, maybe 6'3'', 6'4''."

"Christ, I always thought I was tall. 5'11'' is nothing compared to that. But these are the longest pair of pants I own. Sorry they're only sweats," Roxas shrugged. "And here's a tee, it's my favorite one so take care of it! Do you want boxers?"

"Do you want these sweats back?" Axel replied.

"Well, you can have them, it's all right."

"Then no thank you," he smiled. He also didn't hesitate to drop his towel right in front of Roxas in order to put his new pair of sweatpants on that was adorned with "TWILIGHT HIGH SCHOOL" in large white block letters down the right pant leg. Roxas turned around and slapped a hand over his eyes out of both shock and embarrassment.

"You have to warn a guy first, man!" he said, waiting for Axel to give the okay for him to turn around. When he did, Roxas twisted around to see a glowing Axel, complete with his sweatpants on his bare body. Roxas couldn't help but to notice how low they hung on his hips. He continued to stare ceaselessly as the taller boy put on his favorite blue tee with a giant black boom box across the chest.

"Sorry," Axel laughed. "I guess I've lost my manners while on the streets. It happens when you're not around people for a while, you know." With another small laugh he sat himself down on Roxas's unmade bed. It took all that had inside of him not to lie back onto the mattress; it felt good to be in a real bedroom, and all he wanted to do at the moment was sleep. "I guess that food's ready, eh? We better dig in before it gets too cold!"

"Oh yeah, sure thing!" replied the blonde, and once again he led the way into the kitchen. He couldn't figure it out, but there was just something about Axel that made him beam like the light shone from a lighthouse in the middle of the night.

xxx

"D'you wan' dat las' 'amburg'r?" Axel asked through a mouthful of beef. His hamburger had been devoured in record timing and he was already asking for seconds with food still in his mouth. Roxas didn't mind, however, and he politely gave up the food to his guest. "Thanks a lot," Axel grinned after swallowing his mouthful.

"Not at all, go on ahead." An excited smile swept across his lips as he joyously watched the poor hungry soul finish his meal. He couldn't help but feel like he was doing something right here, like he was really helping someone out. The truth was, that he _was_ helping someone out. Someone who really needed it; someone who truly deserved it.

Five minutes and a one loud burp later, Axel looked up from his plate, sat back in his chair and place a hand over a very appreciative stomach. "Thank you so much, you have no idea what this all means to me," he said.

"It's nothing. I help my mother every so often around the house, including cooking for her when I see she's had a hard day. I like to please."

"That's so nice of you…" he trailed off and yawned audibly. "Goodness, sorry about that. Sounds like it's time for a nap." He stopped. "…Mind if I snooze for just a little while on this couch? My feet will be hanging off of the other end of it, but it looks comfy enough. Just hand me a blanket and I'll be fine, it's been a while since I've slept with one of those—"

"You can have my bed," Roxas interjected. "I mean it's messy, but I don't mind having you sleep there at all. I'll just be downstairs or in my room on the computer. Wherever I am I promise to be quite so you can get some rest," he stated happily as he cleared the table. After putting the dishes in the sink he turned around to find Axel staring at him, yet again, except this time Roxas didn't have a muffin in his hand to offer the slender boy. Looking closely he could see that his eyes were watering, and the hand he had on his stomach felt soundlessly by his side. "Are you all right, Axel?"

"No one's ever offered me their bed before."

"Yeah well, you need it. Go on, head upstairs. I'll wake you up if it gets too late."

xxx

Roxas woke softly from the slumber he had plunged into. He had fallen asleep on his couch watching television. A glance at the clock revealed to him that it was ten forty-two at night. "Goodness," he yawned. "I wonder if Axel is still asleep." He stepped carefully on each stair as he made his way to the second floor, making sure that he did it quietly so he wouldn't wake Axel.

He rounded the corner and tread softly into his room, and there he lay; Axel, in all his sleeping glory. Roxas laughed lightly at the way his mouth hung open and at his hand that was draped lazily across his chest, the other one with its fingers snared in his red locks. Suddenly Roxas became enchanted with the way this person looked; he began to take note of all of his bodily features, how they connected with one another and how well one complemented the other. The length of his legs, the size of his small waist, those tattoos on his eyes, the _color_ of those eyes—everything just seemed to fit perfectly. Then he did something he wouldn't have ever guess he would have done.

In one swift motion he was sitting on the edge of his bed, still gazing at Axel's sleeping face. _I wonder how they feel,_ he thought silently to himself as he eyed the tattoos underneath Axel's eyes. Before he could realize what he was doing, he had outstretched a single hand, trying desperately to touch those tattoos. He finally placed the hand on the boy's cheek and was taken aback by how warm it was to the touch.

Those big, green eyes blinked once—then twice—and Axel was awake. He took the hand he had in his hair and rubbed his eye. When he realized that Roxas was touching his face, he only smiled and put his hand overtop Roxas's. Slowly he sat up, still holding Roxas's small hand in his own.

"Can I help you?" he grinned effortlessly and finally took the blonde's hand off of his face and placed it in his lap, still holding on.

"I—I'm, I'm sorry. I just woke up and I was wondering if you were still sleeping or if you were even still here…" his voice faltered and eventually became a low whisper as he lowered his head to see his hand in Axel's.

"Well, I'm here still. Are you okay? You sound upset." He paused. "…You didn't think I'd left, did you? Not from this place! Not from this bed or, or the food," he slowed his speech, "and definitely not from you. You've been very kind to me, I can never thank you enough." Roxas was pulled into another embrace, but this time, Axel did not cry. Instead, he simply closed his eyes and smiled warmly against the younger boy's shoulder. "Thank you so very much, Roxas." The name was whispered into Roxas's ear, and he felt a chill shoot down his back.

"It's no problem, really," he said quietly. He finally brought up his own arms to return Axel's affectionate embrace, and began to slide his hand up and down Axel's back as if he wanted to warm him from the outside in.

The two sat just like this, engrossed in each other, before Roxas made a bold move. He pulled away from the redhead, grabbed a fist full of the gray and white comforter on top of his bed, pulled it up and climbed gingerly into his bed alongside Axel. He looked at Roxas questioningly, then asked, _"_Are _you_ gay?" before scratching his chest as he laughed at the blonde's sudden move.

"No. I'm simply human," he said rather smugly, and laid his head softly on his pillow. "I like to keep warm." With waiting eyes Roxas looked up patiently at his friend, like he wanted him to join him in laying his head on his small but comfortable pillow.

"Oh, well in that case," he stopped, silently enjoying the look of anticipation on Roxas's face. "You mind scooting over so I can fit my head on this pillow?"

Roxas did as he was requested to do, and the two lay silently under the same sheets and blankets on the same bed, sharing the same pillow. They both enjoyed the way their legs slightly touched, and for at least ten minutes they didn't speak a word to each other.

Then Roxas broke the silence.

"Are you asleep?" he asked.

Axel turned on his side to face the blonde. "No, are you?"

"Nah," and suddenly a long arm snaked around his waist. Roxas didn't know how to react, so he sat motionlessly as Axel moved his hand and placed it on Roxas's stomach. He didn't understand; neither of them were homosexuals, but why was Axel making this move, and why was Roxas not doing anything to stop the move? _Maybe we're just humans,_ Roxas began thinking to himself. _And humans need love. I should do something,_ and with that thought, he moved to lie on his side in order to face Axel, Axel's hand now laying limp on Roxas's hip. The two looked into each other's eyes until Axel closed his. "Hey, wake up!" Roxas teased.

"It's late, and I've been tired for almost two years. Close your eyes. Who knows, maybe we'll have the same dream if we fall asleep at the same time." A yawn escaped his mouth and he gave Roxas's hip a gentle squeeze.

"You're welcome over here whenever you'd like," Roxas whispered. "I may not always have muffins or hamburgers, but you're always welcome, you know, if you need someone to talk to every once in a while."

"That's good to know," Axel's lips trembled as he finished his sentence, and Roxas half expected him to do something with them… but he didn't.

So Roxas did. He put a hand behind Axel's head and bent it forward slightly, then kissed his cheek, right where the tattoo was.

"Cute," Axel smiled. Then, to Roxas's surprise, Axel placed a kiss on his face, roughly in the same spot where he had kissed Axel. "Now we're even," he smiled shyly again.

Roxas used his right leg to lift Axel's left one, then let it rest in between the redhead's. He then put a hand on Axel's cheek, and Axel nuzzled it out of instinct.

"So what does this mean?" the younger boy asked.

"It means I'm going to get a great night's sleep… Roxas?"

"Yeah, Axel?"

"Thanks again." Those green eyes closed one last time before he nestled his nose into the space between Roxas's chin and neck and fell fast asleep.

"_You don't need to thank me,_" the blonde whispered. "_It was my pleasure._" With one last yawn Roxas closed his blue eyes and fell into a deep sleep. Axel smiled as if he'd heard what the young boy had said before he drifted into slumber.


End file.
